


ignorance equals bliss

by g0ryllama



Series: Moominpappa's (Explicit) Exploits [4]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Masochism, Oops, Rough Sex, Teasing, slight daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 07:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19290787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0ryllama/pseuds/g0ryllama
Summary: Joxter likes to be a tease, but what he doesn’t like is being ignored. Unfortunately for him, Moominpappa is much too busy to play with him.Well. That won’t stand.





	ignorance equals bliss

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt hold back with this one

Joxter prowls up the stairs slowly, feet padding almost silently on the wood. If there’s anything he loves more than napping, it’s making his friend uncomfortable until he snaps and takes it out on him.

The other inhabitants of Moominhouse are out for the day, doing various things, but for some reason, Moominpappa has holed himself away in his study, leaving Joxter to fend for himself. He’d decided he didn’t want to, and so formed a plan to get his attention.

The door to the study creaks open slowly, Joxter pressed behind it and peeking around the corner to make sure the moomin doesn’t see him before he slips in, closing the door silently. When there’s still no reaction, he grins, still silent as he stands behind Moominpappa’s chair.

“I’m bored, let’s have some fun…” He drawls, licking a stripe up the outside of his ear.

Moominpappa grumbles a little, waving a paw in his general direction to send him away. “No, I’m busy.” He rubs the saliva off of his ear and Joxter steps back.

Seems like he’ll have to try harder. It’s annoying but he wants it so he’ll have to work for it. “What’s more important than me?”

“I’m writing my memoirs, Joxter. Can’t you go away? Take a nap?”

Not responding, he stretches his arms up high, making his shirt ride up until a sliver of his skin is revealed above his trousers, yawning loudly to try and make his friend look over. He drops his arms after a few seconds too long, when it’s evident it’s not going to work, with a sigh. But Joxter isn’t demotivated.

Deciding to ‘take’ his advice, he stretches out on his side on the carpet not far from the other’s feet, making sure to raise his hips more than usual, his ass sticking out seductively. When Moominpappa  _ still _ doesn’t look, he kicks his chair forcefully, winking when he glares at him.

But that’s the only reaction he gets before the moomin focuses on his writing once more, and Joxter feels his hackles rise. If there’s one thing he hates more than being told what to do, it’s being ignored when he’s practically laid himself out for the other’s pleasure. It’s rude.

Regardless, he stays there for what feels like hours, occasionally kicking his chair again, watching the way his paw  _ doesn’t _ tighten on his pen.

Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his head on his arms, sliding his knees under his stomach and staring down the wooden leg of the desk. What would get his attention?

Well, there’s always  _ that _ , but it’s not something he wants to say. That’s a last resort.

For the next hour, Joxter prowls the room, occasionally knocking books off the bookcase onto the floor, or rearranging Moominpappa’s knick knacks with little regard for his carefully messy aesthetic. Not once does his friend acknowledge his presence, not even a glance to see what the ruckus is about, and Joxter doesn’t want to give in but Moominpappa is certainly not making it easy for him.

He doesn’t know when the others will be back, but as the sun begins to set he wonders vaguely if they’ll even have time for a bit of fun anyway.

And still, even when he leans across the desk, hat discarded in favour of messing up his hair a little, shirt  _ somehow _ slipped off a shoulder, directly in Moominpappa’s line of sight, Joxter gets no response.

So he caves, last resort it is. Might as well make it hard for both of them. “Fuck me  _ Pappa, please… _ ” His voice sounds breathy, quiet, the way that he knows makes the moomin's fur stand on end.

There’s silence as the other’s pen stops scratching on the paper, before Moominpappa inhales sharply, a dark look on his face. “Now that you’ve asked nicely.”

Joxter smirks, watching Pappa put away his writing supplies slowly. He wouldn't admit it, but he feels a deep tingling settle at the base of his spine. Maybe he's been after this for too long. Distantly he wonders if it was Moominpappa's plan to get him worked up enough to beg for it. It seems like something his friend would do.

He kicks the chair away and moves to lean his back against the desk, ignoring the flush in his cheeks as Moominpappa slots himself between his legs, pushing him back until he's sat on the desk. Joxter pulls him even closer with his ankles, humming appreciatively when Pappa nudges his hips against the growing hardness of his cock in his trousers.

"You know my work is  _ incredibly  _ important to me," he says, tone accusatory, brows knitted in a frown. Joxter's smirk only grows. "Couldn't you entertain yourself?"

"It's not as fun to do it by myself, you know," he muses, tilting Moominpappa's face up a little and pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips. "Unless you want to watch?"

A paw comes up to his hair and grips, pulling his head back and baring his neck. Joxter mewls, the pain delicious, and Pappa laughs at him as he trails his other paw along his throat. "I bet Mymble loves this as much as I do."

"Mmh, probably more," he admits, skin crawling at the touch. "She's freaky like that."

Moominpappa laughs darkly, replacing his paw with his tongue, wet and hot and rough. It feels almost soothing to the need running through his veins, scratching the itch that's been building for the past few hours.

The paw in his hair grips tighter as the moomin leaves bruises along his neck and collar bone with his tongue (a talent Joxter is always excited to be on the receiving end of). He pushes his hips down a little hoping to feel the other's cock ready to slide into him, disappointed when it's clear he hasn't prepared himself for that yet.

Moominpappa seems to understand, a light chuckle bubbling up from his throat. "Are you prepared?"

He takes a moment to think about it; he could've opened himself up, and wouldn't that have been teasing enough to get the moomin to take him. Annoyance fills him at the missed opportunity, but he shrugs. "Nope. Thought you liked doing that bit?"

"I do, but I think I'd rather watch you do it."

What a waste of time. Joxter rolls his eyes, holding out a hand for the lube he knows Moominpappa keeps in his desk drawer, hidden away behind a false end. This isn't their first rodeo in here, and it probably won't be the last either.

A little amount is squirted onto his fingers and then they both freeze. "I'm still in my clothes…"

"You'd think after all these years we wouldn't forget." His friend laughs, pulling his trousers down for him when Joxter stands off the desk. He rubs his fingers together, turning around and laying his chest over the desk, ass bare and right under Moominpappa's gaze.

He slides his index finger along his entrance teasingly, sighing softly as it presses inside of him, not nearly enough to feel good yet. Still, Joxter works his finger in and out leisurely, spreading his cheeks apart with his other hand. Looking over his shoulder he sends a wink in the moomin's direction, his middle finger joining the first with slightly more difficulty.

It's still not enough of a stretch to feel anything but uncomfortable, but as Joxter begins to scissor his fingers apart and the pad of his middle finger brushes against his prostate, he moans wantonly. The lube helps with the easy slide, the lack of friction both a blessing and a curse, but his third finger can barely fit into him despite the slipperness, and he wonders if it's been too long since he's been taken.

Now the stretch begins to feel good, nowhere near what he can take but good nonetheless (he wonders if there'll be time  for him to force his first in, but if not they can do that another day). There's an appreciative groan from behind him and a quick glance shows him just how worked up his little show has made Moominpappa. Definitely not enough time for fisting.

They used to joke around when they were younger, with the Muddler, about how the only reason they kept the moomin around was because of his cock. (Admittedly, not a very nice joke but Moominpappa took it in his stride, as a compliment). Joxter hums quietly as he spreads his fingers out, the three of them not quite as large as his dick.

Or thick. "If you don't take me now I'm going to ruin your work."

Moominpappa huffs, squirting some of the lube on his dick and spreading it evenly with a hiss as Joxter pulls his fingers out of his ass. "If you get too bossy I'll leave you in here alone."

Joxter decides it's not worth responding, maneuvering so his cock isn't trapped between his stomach and the desk. Moominpappa's paws grasp his hips harshly as he steps closer; his cock slides into place in between his cheeks.

The view out of the window is nice, but Joxter hopes silently that he'll get fucked hard enough it blurs out completely. He’s not going to voice that though.

The first breach of the ring of muscle burns, and maybe he should've used four fingers but time is of the essence. The slightly strange shape of his dick feels almost nostalgic, reminding Joxter of the first time they did this in the engine room of the Oshun Oxtra, pretending to be fixing something that didn't need fixing. 

Moominpappa holds still with just the tip in when Joxter clenches around him like a vice, a paw pressing gently into the small of his back. "Been a while?"

He nods, digging his claws into the wooden desk when the other slides in a little further. "Been travelling."

Once he's in to the hilt, the sky just begins to turn purple, and they both seem to realise they don't have nearly as much time as they'd like. Almost as a warning, the moomin takes a fistful of the mumrik's hair, pressing a much too gentle kiss to the nape of his neck before sliding out to the tip agonisingly slow.

And then everything does become a blur (thank god). Moominpappa slams back into him with enough force to shake the desk, the intrusion almost hard enough that Joxter feels like he might tear in two, and each thrust after feels somehow steadily harder.

He wonders vaguely, almost empty headed, if Moominpappa needed this as much as he did, because he seems to lose himself in the pleasure of Joxter's ass tight around him, teeth scraping against the skin of his neck like he's forgotten how to do this carefully. It  _ hurts _ bad, but Joxter's fucked up enough to love every second of the pain. He's mewling, whining, gasping with every jab of his cock against his prostate, his own cock bouncing against the desk with the force of each thrust.

Somehow he loses his mind, vacant and desperate for his sweet release, back arched almost painfully just to make sure the tip of Moominpappa's cock reaches as far as it can inside of him. Every moan is an utter of 'Pappa' or 'Moomin', and every response is a groan of his name or a tug on his hair.

It just feels so good to be used, to let his friend do whatever he wants to him, and even if it's totally for selfish reasons it feels good to help him release his frustrations on a willing participant (even if he is also the cause of those frustrations).

Joxter tries to meet every thrust by pushing his hips back, knees weak with the waves of pleasure pulsing through his body, dragging his claws across the desk and leaving scratches in the woodwork that would have to be filled and painted over. He feels so full and so empty every other second, it's almost too much.

Moominpappa seems to sense his orgasm approaching, speeding up to a ruthless pace that has Joxter's muscles giving out, face squished against the desk and mouth open in a silent gasp.

His release hits him like a tidal wave of lava, whiting out his vision and wringing his cock for all it's worth, a puddle of his cum under the desk he's sure. The tight clenching of his ass around Pappa's cock brings him to release too, filling Joxter's gut with thick, hot cum, almost as painful as it is pleasurable to be so full of the other's pleasure.

"God Jox…" Moominpappa exclaims, thumb rubbing against a particularly painful bruise on his shoulder. "You take it… So well…"

Their panting fills the study, and they stay still until Joxter's vision returns to him, and Moominpappa pulls out. He feels gross, but he turns and grins lazily. "Like I-I'm made for it…"

His friend rolls his eyes, a finger pushing into his oversensitive hole, cum spilling out around it. "You've got to help clean up."

Joxter moans quietly with a frown. He wasn't made for that, that's for sure.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to stingerpicnic who prompted me the 'pappa ignores joxter trying to get some' idea! <3


End file.
